


In the Coffee Shop

by animaniacs16



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anxiety Attacks, BAMF Peggy Carter, Best Friends, Clint is a mess, Dorks in Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Humor, I hate pierce, M/M, Mutual Pining, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Steve is a mess, Swearing, anyway enjoy!, cameos from other characters - Freeform, can you tell, heed the chapter notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2019-06-14 16:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15392889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animaniacs16/pseuds/animaniacs16
Summary: Steve Rogers finds the perfect place to work on his art- the new Starbucks around the corner. However, he finds himself dragging his best friend Clint back to the coffee shop over and over- and not just for his art.Or, when Steve and Clint do a whole latte flirting with the baristas.(Stucky and Clintasha are the main ships- this fic is heavily focused on both)





	1. Chapter 1

Steve needed a change of pace.  
After staring at a piece of paper for hours every day, only getting up to eat or go to the bathroom, he was tired of the same old wood desk.

Even if it was just a McDonald’s or something, anything was better than that empty desk with a glass of water and his inhaler perpetually to his right.

So after wandering the streets of Brooklyn for ten minutes, he stumbled across a Starbucks that had recently been built.  
Weighing his options (to hipster coffee shop or not to hipster coffee shop?) he decided Starbucks was the most convenient choice, and pushed his way in.

The place was moderately empty, with a line of three or four people in line for drinks. Customers littered the tables, working on laptops or chatting with a friend, cups in hand. The mahogany walls proclaimed the signature logo of the franchise, which sat between pictures that wouldn’t be out of place on an aesthetic Instagram. The whole environment was strangely comfortable for a chain coffee shop.

From what he could see when he got in line, a redheaded woman manned the cashier. She was petite, with porcelain pale skin. Every one of her movements was graceful, like a dancer. Steve could see her in a ballet, or the subject of a dynamic art piece.

Steve’s phone buzzed in his hand.

  
Clint: yo did you find somewhere

Steve: yeah found a Starbucks.

Clint: Lit

Clint: I’m bored

Steve: Honestly, I don’t understand why you didn’t just come here with me.

Clint: it’s the buttcrack of dawn steven

Steve: first of all, it’s 10:30. Second of all, you’re up anyway

Clint: too lazyyyyy

  
“Good morning! What’ll it be?” A deep voice interrupted Steve’s train of thought, which was currently devising a snarky comeback for Clint.

Steve looked up to give his order (caramel frappachino with soy milk), but it died in his throat.

Because the barista standing in front of him was _not_ Redhead.

First of all, this barista was male. He was tall, towering over Steve’s 5’4”. Not only was he tall, he was also ridiculously buff. His bicep was probably bigger than Steve’s head. Well-defined muscles rippled through his skin. He had long black hair currently tied in a low messy bun, strands of hair framing his steel blue eyes. Under his Starbucks apron, he had on a tight long sleeve t-shirt, with what looked like a silver glove on his left hand.

“ _Fuck_...” Steve breathed out.

Beautiful Barista laughed- a musical, wonderful sound. “I don’t think we sell that here.”

“What?” Steve snapped out of his reverie. Did he just say that out loud? _Goddammit_.

“Now, if you ordered a Fucchiato, I could probably devise something.” Beautiful Barista (BB for short) sent a wink (a _wink_!!!!) in Steve’s direction.

How unfair was it that the guy wasn’t just hot as hell, but he was also funny, clever, and maybe even flirty? Oh, Steve was gone.

“Uh- no. Sorry, uh, can I have a tall caramel frappachino with soy milk? Please, if it’s no trouble.” Smooth, Steve. His face heated up, and now he was sure he was red as a tomato.

“That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?” BB rung up the order. “That’ll be $4.30.”

Steve stared at him for a brief second, his brain not comprehending the hot boy’s outstretched hand.

Oh. Money.

He dug out the appropriate amount as the barista readied a sharpie and cup.  
“Name?”

“Uh, Steve. S-t-e-“

“I know how to spell Steve,” the man retorted with a smile, writing the name on the cup.

Getting a weird burst of confidence, Steve fired back, “how do you know it’s not spelled S-t-e-i-v?”

Barista smiled wider this time. Steve was nearly blinded by the sheer beauty of this guy. “Touché, but I’ve literally never heard of anyone spelling it like that, and I doubt you do either.”

Steve shrugged. “Ya got me.” He was given his change, and after thanking him, turned to find a table.

“My names Bucky, so I have my share of weird spelling attempts,” Barista- Bucky- yelled.

Desperately trying to hide his telltale blush, Steve shot a thumbs up at Bucky, then headed to an empty table.

Once there, he whipped out his phone, his face heating up. He knew Clint was still in bed, but was definitely on his phone.

  
Steve: Clint Clint CLINT

Clint: I’m too tired for this

Steve: I just made a fool outta myself in front of a REALLY hot barista

Clint: oh nooooo how can you go on?  
Clint: you may never set foot in a Starbucks again

Steve: DONT MAKE FUN OF ME  
Steve: I literally couldn’t talk and when I did, I made some crack about the barista somehow misspelling my name

Clint: AHAHA  
Clint: HOW DID HOT BARISTA REACT

Steve: idk but I was too focused on my OBVIOUS BLUSH to notice  
Steve: I am screwed™️

Clint: Really? You’re already THAT far gone? Mr. “I don’t have time for dating right now”?

Steve: shut up shut up shut UP  
Steve: you try and string together a coherent sentence when a literal Greek Deity is staring right at you

Clint: maybe I will. I will WILLINGLY GET UP AT 9:30 tomorrow for you on my week off. Don’t say I’m not a good friend.

Steve: wow what a sacrifice.

  
“Steve?”

Steve nearly jumped out of his chair when he heard his name. He looked up and saw Bucky the barista holding his drink, a smile lighting up his whole face.

Steve scrambled to the counter, thinking “ _don’t blush, please don’t blush_!”  
“Uh, thanks,” he mumbled, eloquent as ever.

“You got it!” Bucky replied cheerfully. He laughed a little. “Have a great day.”

“I will!” Steve said it automatically, but as soon as it left his mouth, he knew he would.

 _You just met the guy and already, you’d do anything for him,_ whispered the rational part of Steve.

The rest of him told the rational part to shut up.

Redhead sauntered behind Bucky, giving Steve a quick smirk that conveyed that she knew exactly what he was feeling.

Steve was intimidated and impressed at once. He took his drink back to his table, scanning the cup for the name.

Instead of “Steve”, “Stove” was written in scratchy handwriting, with a small smiley face near the S.

Steve chuckled. If the guy wasn’t into him (which was probably the case), he’d love to have Bucky as a friend of his.

He sipped his drink (deliciously sugary), pushing up his glasses. Looking up at the counter, he had an idea for a drawing.

He started to roughly sketch in the framework, taking care to accentuate the eyes and the jawline. His pencil whirled across the sketchbook, capturing a beautiful presence in its strokes.

When Steve was finished, he held it at arms’ length.

Bucky stared back at him from the page, a small smile playing on his lips and his eyes sparkling with joy.

Of course, it wasn’t perfect, especially because he’d only drawn him once, but Steve was pretty damn proud of it.

Who knew coffee shops could give such inspiration?


	2. Chapter 2

Steve woke up the next morning with a goofy grin on his face. All day yesterday he was giddy, riding on the high from his successful(?) conversation with the barista. He was so un-subtle that one of his commissioners stopped midway through her sentence on a Skype call to ask about it.

He had to tell her, “it’s nothing, Wanda, don’t worry!”

But she read him like a book, because she also happened to be one of his friends.  
She had only smiled slightly and directed the subject back to the commission.

Steve was pretty sure Sam, his roommate,  
had picked up on his mood as well, given the glances Sam kept stealing out of the corner of his eye, his mouth turning up in a slight smirk. However, he had said nothing about it to Steve the night before.

Steve picked up his phone from his bedside table, swiping it to Clint’s chat. It was 8:45 am, and Clint was awake by now, but definitely still in bed. Barton ran an archery place down the street, so he was used to having to get up earlier to open the place. So on his week off, he was surely awake by now. His circadian rhythm didn’t prevent him from lazing about in bed, however.

Steve: wakey wakey eggs and bakey

Clint: it’s too early

Steve: don’t be surly!

Clint: what are we in a doctor seuss book?

Steve: wouldn’t that be cool

Clint: yeah cuz I’d get to sleep in

Sam’s voice floated in from the kitchen. “Hey, Steve, why did Clint just text me something about doctor seuss books having better sleep schedules than real life?”

Steve chuckled, reaching for his glasses. “Sam, do you want to come with us to the coffee shop today?” he shouted back to his friend.

Sam poked his head in. “Nah, I gotta work. Ask Clint or Peggy. I’d love to help you with your ‘quest for love’”- here he made air quotes with his fingers- “but I can’t today. I wish you luck on your conquest,” he teased, even going so far as to bow in mock-servitude.

Steve threw a pillow at him.

After Sam left, Steve’s phone buzzed.

  
Clint: peg says you’re being pathetic and I agree tbh

Steve: everyone’s pathetic compared to Peggy she’s the goddess of badassery

Clint: tru

Steve: anyway you better be dressed when I get over there or you’re paying for my drink

Clint: ok Mom

  
Steve was being a bit hypocritical, seeing as he usually spent his work day in his pajamas, and didn’t plan on today being any different.

But then he remembered the reason he so badly wanted to go to the coffee shop anyway- the Perfection that was Bucky Whatever-his-last-name-was.

So he searched his closet for something that would make him look Casual but Not a Mess™️. Finally, he found a Steven Universe star t-shirt paired with jeans. So what if the shirt was a little big on him? He still looked okay, at least.

Steve headed to the kitchen and grabbed a pear, nibbling on it mindlessly. He hoped that Clint was at least out of bed by now.

He headed over to the apartment across from his, one hand poised over the door to knock, and the other posed over his phone to notify Clint of his arrival.  
Before his knuckle hit the wood, the door swung open.

A rumpled looking Clint looked down at him. “Told you I’d willingly get up at 9:30 this morning. You’re welcome.”

Steve scoffed. “You call _that_ willingly? Anyway, you’re wearing _that_?

Clint had donned a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles shirt on top of sweatpants. Truly the pinnacle of couture (not that Steve was one to talk).

“Well, it was either this or a tuxedo,” replied Clint, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Since getting a coffee is such an event.”

“Shut up, Clint. All I asked was that you come with me to get coffee, and also to make sure I don’t make an absolute fool out of myself.”

“I have the honor to be your obediant servant.”

“Did you just quote Hamilton at me?”

“Maybe.” Clint smirked.

“You must be out of your goddamn mind if you think I wouldn’t catch that.” Steve smirked even wider. “Now come on, let’s go.”

  
As he walked with Clint to the Starbucks, Steve began to doubt himself. What if Bucky didn’t want to see him again, or thought it was creepy that Steve came back? Of course, Steve had his trusty sketchbook, and the place was a genuine inspiration, so he had a valid reason to return. And yet, it would probably be weird to show up two days in a row. God, he was overthinking this, wasn’t he? Would Bucky even be there? He hoped so. Although he’d be okay with seeing Redhead too. If he wasn’t already head-over-heels for Bucky, his bisexual ass would probably be crushing on her.

Steve pushed the door open, holding it open for Clint. When they stepped into the shop, Steve almost gasped out loud.

The scene in front of them was just itching to be drawn. There was no line, so it was easy to see the two baristas working the counter.

They were both laughing, radiating genuine joy. Redhead covered her mouth with her hand, her green visor contrasting with the fire of her hair. Bucky was preparing a coffee, his left profile facing Steve. His hair was mostly down, with a small bun in the back. He was wearing a red t-shirt that exposed his arm and wow.

What Steve had thought was a silver glove was actually part of an intricate metal arm. Interlocking metal plates spanned the length of it, allowing it to move gracefully. From the way Bucky was easily handling the coffee cup, the arm looked as if it could be very gentle. Tony would love it.

And Bucky pulled it off fantastically. You’d think a metal arm would look wildly out of place but it somehow made him look even more ethereal, which Steve didn’t think was possible.

Steve heard a whisper of, “I should’ve gone with the tuxedo,” from beside him.

“I told you,” he whispered back, not tearing his eyes from Bucky.

When Clint didn’t answer, Steve looked over at him. Clint had his eyes trained on the front of the place, but he wasn’t looking at Bucky. He was looking straight at Redhead as she worked, mesmerized.

“No, not that one, you dingus,” Steve said, lightly slapping his friend on the shoulder. “The _other_ one!”

“There’s another one?” Clint seemed to only notice then that Redhead wasn’t alone. After studying Bucky, he remarked, “I hope that’s not her boyfriend.”

Steve froze. _Oh, God. Please no_.

But then, Redhead noticed them.

“Hey, Bucky,” she said loud enough for the boys to hear, “Cute Customer Guy is back and he brought a friend!”

Bucky slapped her arm incredulously. “Shut _up_ , Nat,” he whisper-yelled.

Steve realized he had unconsciously walked towards Bucky and Redhead- Nat. He looked behind him to see Clint still frozen in place.

He took his friend’s arm and made his way to the counter.

“Back again, I see,” smirked Bucky.

“Couldn’t stay away,” replied Steve with a smirk of his own.

“Who’s your friend?” asked Nat, pointing to the star-struck Clint.

“Don’t worry about Natasha. She can be a little... intimidating sometimes.” Bucky shot an apologetic smile towards the two of them.

“You know you love me!” Natasha flashed a smile towards the boys. Only then did Clint break out of his stupor.

“Name’s Clint. Come here often?” He attempted to suavely lean on the counter, nearly losing his balance for a second.

Natasha stared at him for a millisecond. “I work here.”

Steve heard a whispered, “ _shit_.” from beside him. He’d be laughing if he wasn’t furiously racking his brain for something witty to say to Bucky.

Also, was Cute Customer Guy _him_? Did Natasha nickname him that because she thought he was cute or because Bucky did? Why did Bucky look so flustered when she said it?

 _Rogers, you’re making things up again_ , scolded the rational part of his brain. It also told him to make his order because he’d been awkwardly staring into space for ten seconds.

“Uh... can I have a...”

“Fucchiato?” Bucky smirked again while Clint gave Steve a confused look.

“Shut up. What would that even be made of?”

“Dreams.”

Steve laughed and ordered the same thing he had the day before- a tall caramel frappechino with soy milk.

Beside him, he heard Clint order a grande double chocolate mocha frappe with chocolate drizzle. That boy was unabashedly a chocolate lover.

“Sweet, like me,” he answered Natasha when she had only chuckled. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve could see Clint face palming immediately after he said the line. Oof, Steve knew how that felt.

Natasha took the money, a sparkle in her intelligent eyes.

Bucky leaned over the counter while Steve paid. “Turtle Dude is a mess in the most endearing way.”

Steve laughed. “And one of my closest friends. I wouldn’t have it any other way!”

Bucky gave Steve back his change, the palm of his hand brushing Steve’s. Naturally, this small contact made Steve’s face heat up and his heart speed up.

“Th-thanks, Binky,” Steve joked, desperately hoping his heartbeat wasn’t as loud as it felt.

“No problem, Stets.” Bucky raised his hand to his head in mock salute.

“C’mon, Clint.” Steve dragged Clint by the back of his shirt to a table.

All Clint did was rest his head on the table.

“Been there, dude,” was all Steve said.

“This is so humiliating,” groaned Clint, “Alexa, play I Hate Myself by Bill Wurtz.”

“I’m sure she thought you were adorable.” Steve put a hand on his friend’s back.

“We don’t even know if they’re single. For all we know they could be dating each other!”

“I really doubt it.” The dynamic between the baristas seemed much more like his and Peggy’s. Peggy was one of his closest friends. They had dated once, and decided they were much better off as best friends, which they still were. Steve loved and valued her dearly as one of the people he trusted most.

“I hope you’re right, Steve. If I mess up another pick up line-“

“I’ll probably be blushing right beside you, Clint. We can be messes together.”

Clint looked up, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Dumpster fire bros?” He held up a hand for a high-five.

“Dumpster-fire bros.” Steve obliged.

“Steve?” Bucky’s voice called. Steve shot a smile at Clint and got up to get his drink.

“You’re welcome,” Bucky said.

“Thanks,” replied Steve, reflexively doing finger guns.

 _FINGER GUNS?_ He inwardly cringed at himself. He was the very definition of Disaster Bisexual.

He nearly ran back to his seat. “Clint, you legally can’t tease me-“

“Legally?”

“Legally according to me- you can’t tease me because we’re _both_ messes, but I just reflexively did finger guns to the barista.” He said all this quickly and red-faced.

“I mean, I just nearly crashed on the floor in front of Natasha the Goddess of Beauty and Probably Death Because She Looks Like She Could Kill Me But It’s Kinda Hot-“

“Is that her full name?” Steve chuckled just as Natasha’s husky voice called out, “Clint?”

“Speak of the devil- actually, speak of the goddess!” Steve smiled.

Clint just gave him a look.

While Clint was gone, Steve scanned his cup again. The name “ _Steeb_ ” printed on the cup made him smile.

He loved that he could joke with Bucky like that. He was so easy to talk to- but also not because he was a literal Greek God? A living paradox to Steve.

“I’m back,” said Clint triumphantly, whipping Steve out of his thoughts.

“How’d it go?” asked Steve, taking a sip of his drink.

“I actually talked to her without making a fool of myself!” Clint waved his straw around. “Dude, she’s so _cool_.”

“I bet. She looks cool. And if she’s friends with Bucky, she’s gotta be.”

“Correction- if _he’s_ friends with _her_ , _he’s_ gotta be cool.”

Both of them laughed. Steve raised his Starbucks cup in mock toast.

“To us, for not being completely awful!”

“To us!” They clinked their cups together, than drank.

In no time, they had finished their drinks. Clint craned his neck to look at the baristas, making sure Natasha was looking, than tossed his empty cup behind him.

It, of course, landed right in the trash can. Clint had perfect aim. Only fitting that his job revolved around archery.

Steve heard claps from behind him.

“10 out of 10!” cheered Bucky.

“I’d give it a 9.5,” said Natasha. “Your face wasn’t expressive enough.”

“I deserved at least a 15!” Clint rubbed back.

Natasha only smiled in response.

Bucky caught Steve’s eye with a look of absolute joy on his face. Steve was sure his own face mirrored Bucky’s. Clint was absolutely glowing.

Maybe they weren’t such dumpster fires after all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little interlude in which Bucky and Natasha neglect their job and deny their obvious crushes.

“Oh my God, Nat. You totally have the hots for him!” Bucky slammed down his phone on the table, then cringed. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Nat strutted into the break room, sipping a drink. “Is it broken? Your phone or your dignity? You were SO OBVIOUS out there.”

“Neither, thank you very much. And you should’ve seen yourself.”

“I was completely suave-“

“HA! So you admit you like him.”

“Love is for children, Barnes,” said Natasha. However, she hid her mouth with her hand and turned away.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Is it?”

Natasha took another sip of her drink.

“You know we’re not supposed to take those without paying.” Bucky gestured with his phone.

“Maria doesn’t care,” retorted Nat, shrugging her shoulders. “And even if she did, I have my ways of getting past managers.”

That was Nat for you. A self-named “sneaky bitch”, and good at it.

“But seriously, he’s totally into you, James,” she said, diverting the subject back. “Did you see how he looked at you when he came in today? Getting you dolled up was a good choice.”

“Okay, first of all, _Natalia_ , I didn’t get ‘dolled up.’ Second of all, he was probably just thirsty.”

“In more ways than one.” Natasha smirked, reclining on her chair.

Bucky rolled his eyes, but smiled despite himself.

“Do you want me to get info on him?” asked Nat casually.

Bucky sat up so fast it looked like he got whiplash. “ _What_? He’s a customer, not a _target_ , Nat!”

“Hey, I was just going to find a little more information to get to know him a little better, that’s all.”

“ _Natasha_.”

“Fine.” She put her phone away. She just wanted to do a little lurking, what was the harm in that? Okay, she was being a little hypocritical, being a Russian immigrant who was a private person, but she wanted to know more!

“We’re lucky there’s no one here right now, or they’d be complaining to the manager,” Bucky said.

Natasha laughed. “Poor Maria. She already has to deal with us. She doesn’t deserve to be harassed by indignant customers.”

“You got that right,” replied Bucky as the bell announcing customers dinged.

“I’ll take that,” volunteered Bucky, getting up to actually do his job.

Natasha didn’t even object. A mission was already forming in her head.

_Sneaky bitch mode activate._

Opening up Safari, she typed in, “Clint”.

A broad search, but she had her ways of finding what she needed. She didn’t know why she wanted to find info about him so badly, but she did.

Whether she admitted it to herself or not, Natasha Romanoff had a crush.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peggy’s in this chapter! I love her so much, and her friendship with Steve, Clint, Sam and others is very strong in this. By the way, in this AU she’s in her twenties in modern times just like the rest of them. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Steve and Clint had made their way back to Steve’s apartment building. The conversation had turned to tv shows, and Clint was currently arguing in favor of Glee.

“Come on! Their voices are amazing, and the characters are great!”

Steve rolled his eyes. “As great as Friends? As _hot_ and _hilarious_ as the six of them?”

“Yes! There’s even a Friends parody!” Clint exclaimed.

That caught Steve’s attention? “Wow, really?” he asked, fishing his keys out of his pocket. “Maybe I’ll look into...”

He trailed off when he unlocked his door.

Sitting at his table was Peggy Carter, cookies on a plate in front of her. Steve had no idea how she got in, but he didn’t question it. Peggy could do anything she set her mind to.

Clint glanced at Peggy, than did a double take.

“You’re late for our Tuesday brunch,” she said, her voice crisp but kind.

Steve said, “Sorry,” at the same time Clint said, “You _scared_ me, Peg!”

Peggy just smirked. “I knocked about ten minutes ago, and no one was home so naturally I had to make sure everything was all right in here! So I went in through the window and decided while I was here to set up.”

Steve just shrugged and sat down. Just like Peggy to literally scale a building for her friends— and some chocolate chip cookies.

“So anyway, where were you?” Peggy clasped her hands together, leaning over the table. “Wooing your _love_?” Steve could almost hear the italics in her voice.

“I was in England visiting your family,” he deadpanned. Despite himself, Steve felt his cheeks heating up.

She laughed, seeing right through him. “Ah, so you did go back to the coffee place! And I see you took Clint with you!”

Clint, who was currently inching towards the door, froze.

“And looks like HE found someone as well!” She clapped her hands.

“God, you know me so well,” he grumbled, smiling nonetheless. He sat down and helped himself to a cookie.

“Give me details! Are they cute?”

“Yes, incredibly!” chorused Clint and Steve.

When they didn’t say anything else, Peggy motioned for more.

“Uh, well, his name is Bucky-” started Steve.

“What kind of name is Bucky, anyway?” interrupted Clint.

“Hey, I don’t judge,” retorted Steve, “and besides, he’s not the one named _Francis_.”

“That’s my middle name, _Steven_.” Clint helped himself to a cookie.

Peggy was watching the boys with amusement. “I never get tired of this,” she sighed.

Steve, flustered, continued. “Anyway, he’s so _pretty_ , Peg. I haven’t felt this way about someone since-“ He stopped himself.

“Me.” Peggy said quietly.

“Well, yeah,” confirmed Steve.

Steve and Peggy had been friends for years when they decided to try dating. They were smitten by each other; he by her fiery demeanor and infallible determination, and she by his stubborn nobility and everlasting resiliency in the face of adversity. For a few months, the relationship went well, but the two of them decided about eight months ago that it was for the best to just stay friends. And unlike many couples, the two kept that promise. Steve now considered Peggy to be one of his best friends.

But every so often, a quick glance into her dark eyes brought a sudden yearning so sharp Steve had to look away. He had figured out it wasn’t her, specifically, but she represented his yearning for reciprocated love again. And with Bucky, there was a glimmer of opportunity for more than what he and Peggy had.

“Steve?” Peggy’s manicured hand swept in front of his face.

Steve gave his head a little shake as to clear his thoughts. “What?”

“You were staring into space for like two minutes,” Clint supplied, giggling into his fifth cookie.

“S-sorry,” Steve stuttered. In the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Peggy sipping her tea.

“S’alright, darling, I get like that occasionally too. Did you get enough sleep last night?”

Actually, he hadn’t, because he’d been up drawing, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“Nah, I’m fine. Just spaced out. Anyway, Clint, do you wanna talk about _your_ adventure at Starbucks today?” Steve prompted Clint, who nearly spat his tea out.

“What? I wasn’t ready!” He complained, downing some more tea.

Peggy gave him a look like, “really?” and looked at him expectantly.

“Well, she’s got red hair, like, _super_ red,” started Clint, waving his hands around, “and she has the greenest, most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. She-“

“She has a name, right?” prodded Steve.

“Oh, right. Her name is Natasha, and she’s really intimidating but beautiful-“

“Would her last name happen to be Romanoff?” interrupted Peggy.

“What?” Clint stopped and looked at her incredulously. “I... actually don’t know...” His face fell a little.

Peggy fished out her phone, a determined grace to her movements.

Steve and Clint glanced at each other with a look that said- “What is she doing?”

Peggy made a triumphant noise, and held up her phone toward the boys.

“Is this her?”

The picture on the phone showed two eloquently dressed women laughing. One of the women was Peggy, and to her left was...

“Natasha...” Clint whispered with a gasp. “Wait, you _know_ her?”

“We met a few years ago at my job,” she explained. No one really knew what Peggy did, just that she worked for the government.

“We’ve been friends ever since.” Peggy sipped her tea with a shrug.

“And you neglected to tell me this why??” asked Clint.

“Clint, we literally just met this girl today,” Steve said.

Clint put a finger up to retort, then sat down when he processed Steve’s statement. “True...”

“Sorry, Steve, I don’t know this Bucky of yours, but he sounds like a cutie.”

Steve gave her a minuscule nod. “He is...”

“But Clint, I’d love to tell you about my dear friend Nat!” The corners of her eyes crinkled up as she smiled.

Steve couldn’t help but reciprocate the smiles from the other two. What did he do to deserve his wonderful friends? Moments like this were priceless.


	5. Chapter 5

Clint had begged Peggy for more information about her friend, and after an over dramatic sigh, she obliged. He had learned that Natasha was a Russian immigrant that moved to America when she was twelve. Peggy had become friends with her through their job (which she still didn’t disclose the specifics of) and they still remained friends today. Clint hadn’t prodded any more because A. he felt like a stalker and B. because Peggy kept her career secret. Peggy’s phone rang suddenly and she mouthed “I have to take this,” stepping out to the balcony.

As soon as she was gone, Steve’s head whipped back around. “Did you get all that?” He raised an eyebrow.

Clint nodded enthusiastically. “Sure did!” He sipped his tea triumphantly.

Steve simply rolled his eyes. “Don’t get too excited, dude. You’ve known her for two hours.”

“But I’ve known Peggy for three years! And if she’s friends with her, I know Natasha’s a good person!”

Steve seemed to weigh the thought, then nodded his head, deciding it was valid.

“True,” he decided, pouring himself some more tea.

“Sorry, had to take that,” said Peggy, stepping back in. She walked gracefully back to the table, a smug smile on her face. “So, Steve, Clint tells me you haven’t seen Glee?”

Clint wondered to himself about her sudden change in subject, but based on her smug demeanor, he knew she was up to something. He’d already pressed her enough, so he didn’t pry.  
  
Steve, meanwhile, shot a look at Peggy. “Have you seen it?”

She simply nodded, and Clint did the same. “Ah, I see you are a woman of culture as well.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but his smile showed he was warming up to the idea.

Without waiting for an answer, Clint jumped up. “Great!” He lunged for the Netflix remote.

When it was at arm’s length, Steve snatched it up. “Uh, remember who’s house this is?”

“Sam’s! I bet he would agree with me!” Clint folded his arms in mock-superiority.

Steve put the remote to his ear like a phone. “Really? Let me call him now. He’d say he’d want to watch the new Steven Universe with me.”

“Obviously, ‘cause this debate is much more important than his work.” Clint was struggling to keep a straight face.

Steve nodded vicariously, holding the remote over his imposing five-foot-four frame.

As Clint debated the merits of stealing it back, Peggy plucked the remote right from Steve’s hand, casually ending their mock argument.

“Boys, boys. Didn’t your mothers teach you not to fight? Why don’t I put on Sesame Street? That’ll teach you the value of sharing. ” She kept her face as serious as possible.

The three of them held the pose for a second, then collapsed into laughter.

It was at that precise moment that Sam walked into the door.

He surveyed the scene, shook his head like “I don’t want to know,” and took the remote from the table while Clint and the others were wrapped up in their laughter.

It was only the theme song for Parks and Recreation that stopped the friends in their tracks.

“When did you get here?” asked Clint, raising an eyebrow as his giggles trailed off.

“Maybe I’ve been here the whole time.” Sam replied, nonchalant. He paused the Parks & Rec episode, then it was his turn to raise an eyebrow.   
“Why are you three so giggly today?”

“It’s nothing,” lied Clint, “just had some Starbucks this morning so I’m on a sugar high.”

There goes Sam’s other eyebrow. “Clint, I know you. You don’t get sugar highs. You know what, this is normal behavior for you.”  
He went to wave it off, and then stopped his hand. “Did you say Starbucks?”

Clint winced as he felt Steve’s elbow jam into his side. “No... I said... Stark bus. Tony bought a bus company and we rode it to a hipster coffee shop today.”

Sam’s eyebrows crashed down as his face took on a knowing look. “Ooooh, did you see a hot barista too? Steve knows all about that.”

Steve’s face turned as red as Clint’s felt. “Uh, no... how’d you know?” He shouldn’t have asked- “oh, right, best friend.”

Sam smiled in victory. “Clint, you’re as subtle as a sledgehammer. Besides, there’s literally a Starbucks cup right there.”

Steve cursed under his breath. “I feel like I’m being interrogated for murder here.”

Peggy, who had been a silent spectator throughout the spectacle, walked over to Sam with a knowing smirk on her face.

Behind her back, Steve and Clint gave each other a look that communicated “what is she planning?”

She whispered something to Sam, who nodded as she talked. When she leaned back, he smiled. “I’m in.”

“Lovely.” She gave him a knowing smile, then patted Clint and Steve’s shoulders.

“What are you planning?” asked Steve, out loud this time.

“Trust me, you’ll thank me.” She winked, and sat down, revealing the remote in her hand.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter- focusing on Awkward Clint and Peggy’s matchmaking skills
> 
> Also- Maria Hill!

The next morning, Clint slammed open the door to Starbucks, channeling his confidence. During this channeling, he may have disregarded the fragility of the door.   
Fuck.   
The resulting bang caused everyone in the cafe to look up in various stages of alarm.

When they saw it was just a blonde dude with various bandages and a panicked look on his face, most went back to their work.

One woman walked out from behind the counter, dressed in the Starbucks attire. “Is the door broken?” She looked around as if surveying imaginary debris, a note of worry coloring her voice.

“No, nothing broke... ma’am.” He added the last part when she fixed him with the most intense stare trained on him since his sixth grade principal. Her blue eyes, while beautiful, were like icicles piercing through Clint’s exterior and right through the other side.

“I’m glad. Well, be more careful next time.”   
She held her drive-thru mic as if it were a spy device, shaking her brown ponytail as she headed back to her station. Jesus. Even her walk was intimidating.

“Hey, Turtle Dude!” A voice shook Clint from his thoughts. He spotted Greek God Bucky waving at him, and waved back sheepishly.   
_God, I hope he didn’t see that._ Clint thought, wary of the door as he walked in front of it.

“What did that door do to you?” _No such luck._

“Shut up.” Clint gave a wan smile, still worried Scary Door Lady would pop out from under the counter and reprimand him.

“Sorry about our manager. Maria’s a little stressed today. She’s overworked, so cut her some slack.”

“Yeah, or I’ll cut your throat,” came a voice from the other room, with a significantly cheerier tone than two minutes before.

“See, she’s already loosening up,” said Bucky, motioning to the source of the voice.

“So, you gonna order?”

He should probably do that.   
Clint opened his mouth to order, but was interrupted by another voice.

“Clint Barton?” She said it casually, so casually that Clint barely registered the use of his last name until he saw her.

“N-Natasha Romanoff!” He said this much less casually, his mouth slightly hanging open.

“That’s m-“ Natasha stopped mid-sentence and scrutinized Clint again. “Wait, how’d you know my name?”

At the same time, Clint burst out with, “How’d you know that?”

Then, inexplicably, they both answered, “A friend.”

Peggy was gonna have a field day with this.

“Peggy...” he muttered under his breath, but inconceivably, so did she.

His mouth dropped open again and stayed there. _Uh, what just happened_?

Bucky seemed to have the same thought, but apparently he found it much funnier than Clint.

“What the hell was that?” He gasped between laughs. “You guys were like the twins from the Shining!”

Clint’s thoughts swirled. He knew Peggy and Natasha knew each other, but the impression Peggy gave him was that they hadn’t been in contact as of late.

And then he remembered the phone call Peggy took in the middle of their conversation- the surprise on her face as she saw the caller ID, the smug smile when she returned, the confident sway of her hips, and if he remembered correctly, the wink she gave him before taking the call.

His mind played connect the dots, and a picture began to form.

Suddenly filled with emotion, he dashed off and planted himself at a table.

Somewhere in his mind, he heard Bucky say, “Wait, Clint!”

But he couldn’t focus on that- he was too focused on his “matchmaker”.

  
Clint: MARGARET CARTER

Clint: WHAT THE FRESH FUCK DID YOU DO

Peggles: You’re welcome.

Clint: You’re WHAT?

Peggles: For setting you up! I expect you to name your first child after me in gratitude.

Clint: Peggy. She probably thinks I’m a stalker!

  
Before Clint could type some more, his phone rang with a call from the woman herself.

“You’re welcome, Clinton!”

“Peggy, what the hell? Seriously. She probably hates me now! It’s the second day she’s seen me and I come off like a freakin’ stalker!”

“Clint. Take some deep breaths.” Only at this point did Clint realize that he had barely stopped to breathe since he sat down.

Once she had deemed it a sufficient amount of time to pause, Peggy continued.

“Clint, did you call her by her full name first?” Peggy asked this slowly, calmly.

“N-no, it was kind of on the spot, because she said mine...first...”

He could almost hear Peggy smirk through the phone.

“That call I took yesterday? Important business- important matchmaking business.”

_Oh, she’s good._

“I don’t know whether to say thank you or fuck you.” Clint muttered, astounded.

“You’re welcome, and I take no offense. Love you, darling!” And with that, Peggy hung up.

For the second time in two days, Clint put his head on the table. He was in too deep to just leave. But she knew his name too- so maybe she didn’t think he was a stalker, and if she did- he’d retaliate with the same about her.

But why accuse her?

Clint turned his head to look at the baristas, and met with a pair of sharp green eyes that bore right through him. But instead of holding malice, they held a hint of concern.

Fuck it.

Clint got up from his chair and approached the counter with more determination than he thought he had in him.

“Hey,” he said casually. “I think we got off on the wrong foot, so before I order, can we start a blank slate?”

Natasha smiled, like actually, sincerely smiled at him, and replied, “Sure.”

The response was only one word, but it gave Clint the mojo to continue. He stuck out his hand, looked straight at her, and smiled.

“Hi, I’m Clint Barton. What’s your name?”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeehaw back to Bucky and Nat- this time with more baristas and a jerk health inspector.

“Save me...” Bucky slumped over the counter in exhaustion once his last customer had left.

Although he couldn’t see her, Bucky could almost hear Natasha’s raised eyebrow. “The more customers you serve, the more cash you get. You know how it is, James.”

“That’s true, but is an extra quarter really worth soccer moms asking me to speak to their manager because they detected a hint of chocolate in their _mocha_?” He lifted his head, propping his arms on the counter. “Is it worth the morning people that are way too peppy at six in the morning? Is it worth the extra cents, despite the fact that Carol and Phil are on vacation?” He gestured to the empty space that the baristas would fill, nearly smacking Gamora in the face.

“Hey, at least I’m back from my vacation,” Gamora objected, swatting his hand away.

Bucky barely noticed, too engulfed in his tirade.   
“Is my tireless suffering worth an extra tip- an extra share of currency? Is anything worth it?”

Natasha stared at him for a second. “Bucky, we work at a Starbucks.”

Gamora stifled a laugh. “Did you get enough sleep last night?”

Bucky pulled his visor over his eyes in response.

“I’m going to take that as a no.” Gamora wielded the Sharpie like a knife as she sauntered away.

Bucky’s head popped up when he heard the bell that announced a customer’s arrival. Could it be...

No, it was Nebula and Peter Quill. Bucky motioned to the regulars as he sank back down, and Gamora smiled at the sight of her sister and her boyfriend.

“Bucky, it’s been four days. I know you’re going through Steve withdrawal, but he’ll be back soon.” Natasha patted his shoulder in a way that was somehow simultaneously reassuring and mocking.

“Shut up!” He slapped her arm in response. Still, she was right. He missed seeing the bright-eyed, blue-eyed Steve walk in, sketchbook in hand. He missed the way the whole coffeehouse seemed to light up when Steve arrived, like it was something to be treasured rather than another location of a chain. He missed the faraway smile that would often be on his face- and was on his face the first time he saw him, six days ago.   
Damn, for someone who didn’t believe in love at first sight, Bucky was sure falling hard.

His daydreaming had not gone unnoticed by Natasha, who elbowed him harder than she needed to.

“Hey, what gives?” Bucky complained. But when he looked up, Natasha was still as a statue. Her eyes were locked at the front of the store, with an intensity so strong that it could only mean one thing.

Bucky slowly looked up, and sure enough, his blood ran cold.

Standing in the doorway, a self assured smirk on his lined face, was Alexander Pierce.

—-

Fuck. Shit. Dammit.

Of course Pierce (or as Bucky had nicknamed him, Piss) was here. Of course he was here at eight forty-three am on a fucking Monday when Bucky happened to have had a shit morning.

Thanks, Universe.

Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Gamora shooing away her friends, still brandishing her Sharpie like it was a weapon.

His internal monologue raced. Did he look presentable enough? Did he have enough tips in the jar?

Only Gamora’s frantic gesturing shook Bucky out of his frozen state. She motioned at them to “act natural”, and Bucky quickly plastered on a smile and grabbed the nearest cup, filling it with the nearest concoction. Natasha raced into the back to warn Maria, leaving Gamora and Bucky on their own.

Pierce strutted over at a leisurely pace, with a look on his face that was not unlike a lion toying with his prey. Bucky looked down fiercely, and registered the fact that his cup was overflowing.

He cursed again, frantically trying to rescue the cup and it’s contents from spilling all over the counter. Maybe he could clean it up before Pierce saw it...

“Ah, Barnes, I see you have a bit of a conundrum there.” No such luck.

Bucky turned around slowly with an awkward half-grimace, half-smile. “Hello, Mr. Pierce.”

“I’m afraid I have to mark that down as a cleanliness violation, Mr. Barnes.”  
Great. Three seconds into the health inspection and they’d already lost points. Although what did Bucky expect from Alexander Pierce, really? The man was only required to do two inspections a year, but he came by every two months. His reputation around the baristas was not helped by the fact that Bucky already hated the guy.

“And Gamora, my dear,”- his tone was as faux-affable as ever when customers were around- “what a long name you must be writing? But why are you using so much force?”   
Gamora didn’t look up from her important task of doodling lines on a cup- channeling all her anger into them.  
“Sorry, I didn’t hear what you said there,” said Pierce, knowing full well that she didn’t make a sound.

Still, Gamora ignored him. Bucky had seized this chance to clean up the countertop, and he was very tempted to chuck the sopping paper towel at Pierce’s smug face.   
But, owing to his incredible self control, he managed to restrain himself. Bucky 1, Pierce... 1.

“I’m afraid noncompliance will cost you another few points,” gloated the oh-so-saccharine health inspector.   
“What?? That wasn’t even noncompliance- I didn’t say anything!” Gamora finally set down her Sharpie.

Pierce let himself behind the counter without permission, taking the cup Bucky had just accidentally overflowed and drinking the coffee from it. “Exactly, Miss Gamora, exactly. An absence of compliance means noncompliance. Your homework for tonight includes reading section N in the dictionary.” He was obviously enjoying himself, enjoying exerting his power over them.

Bucky, for his part, felt like a kid being judged at a science fair. Pierce set down the drink (Bucky’s “science project”) and awarded it a ribbon- of writing down more in his notebook.

“Hmm... too... sweet.”

“You can’t take points off for that, you don’t even know what that is!” Natasha, who had snuck back into the main area, folded her arms.

“Ah, Miss Romanoff, nice of you to join us. While you were off gallivanting doing who knows what, you missed out a line of angry customers clamoring for your service.” He swept his hand out to indicate the exactly zero people that stood in front of the counter.

“There’s no one there!”

“Exactly- where are you going to get your revenue?”

Bucky was seething inside- one more prod from Pierce and he could go off like the coffee he had overflowed.

But before Pierce could get another word in, Gamora apparently reached her breaking point.

“Look, I get that you have to inspect us, but how is the lateness of employees to meet you pertinent? How does my supposed “noncompliance” factor into the health score? Why are you back here after TWO MONTHS?”

All of the sudden, Pierce had her by the collar. All traces of saccharine were gone now.   
“Now you listen here, missy. I make the rules around here. Not Nick Fury, not Maria Hill, and especially not any of you. One single flick from my pen and I could have you all out on the streets in minutes. Understand me?”

Gamora looked around, and Bucky could see the wheels turning in her head for something to use as a weapon. God, he wanted to be anywhere but here, right now. They needed, well, a hero.

Just as Natasha apparently seemed to decide that murdering the man would be a better choice than letting him fire her, a voice boomed from the doors.

“Hey, put her down!”

And who could be standing there, but a five foot four, sketchbook bearing man with an intense look of sheer noble determination- no one but Cute Customer Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh- what’s he gonna do?
> 
> Comments are welcome!!! Thank you to everyone who reads this!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW FOR ANXIETY ATTACKS
> 
> Pierce is a Big Ole Coward and I hate him
> 
> Steve saves the day- but not all of it. Bucky deserves the world.

Pierce let go of Gamora, and she crashed to the ground with an oomph.  
“Excuse me?” He had put on his customer voice again, Bucky noticed. 

“You heard me. I said put her down.” Steve marched towards the counter with a look on his face Bucky hadn’t seen before. 

“I’m sorry, this is company business only, please come back in a minute, sir.” Pierce smiled the fakest smile Bucky had ever seen.

Bucky stared right at Steve and tried his hardest to communicate his situation through his eyes. 

“Well, I’m not an expert on Starbucks, but I’m pretty sure your specific manager wouldn’t like to see this from you.” Steve kept his gaze fixed on Pierce’s tensing face. 

“What proof could you possibly have?” Pierce smirked. “Your oh-so-convincing testimonial? Kid. Buy a drink. Calm down. I’m a friend of the manager’s here.”

Bucky internally scoffed. Trying to ruin Nick Fury’s career wasn’t what you’d call a gesture of friendship. 

Steve opened his mouth to say something else that would likely get him thrown out of the place, until he caught Bucky’s eye. 

“Fine. Can I order now, please?”

“Go right ahead.” Pierce kept the same sugary demeanor, but something about his mood had changed. Was he... scared of Steve?

Bucky smirked at Natasha, who mirrored it. 

Pierce leaned down as Gamora took Steve’s order and whispered intensely to the friends. 

“Now you two listen here. I have to go, so you lucked out- this inspection doesn’t count. But I’ll be back soon, and this place better be spotless. Got that?”

They nodded in angry agreement. 

Pierce grabbed his bag, and looking straight at Bucky, tipped another coffee over. 

So much for spotless. 

—

As soon as Pierce left, Natasha rushed to clean up the mess, waving Bucky off. 

Gamora was taking Steve’s order- “S-t-I FUCKING HATE HIM,” she shouted as soon as Pierce was out of earshot. She stabbed the sharpie into Steve’s cup, nearly poking a hole in it. “I hate being used- abused. I hate feeling manipulated. I thought I had escaped it after my fuck of a father but Pierce is... he’s just like him.”

Steve looked a little taken aback, but to his credit, he chose the right thing to say. 

“Sorry I don’t know how to say your name, but you are strong. I saw how you were fighting to get out of his grip. I saw the look in your eyes. You’re awesome!”

She looked down, smiling. “It’s Gamora. Thanks, Cute Customer Steve.” Dammit. Of course Nat told Gamora about the nickname. 

Bucky sighed and went to work on brewing Steve’s order, forgoing the name on the cup. Steve was all heroic and Bucky stood there like a helpless damsel in distress. He felt so weak, but... when he was around Alexander Pierce, he was terrified for reasons extending far beyond the inspection. 

Steve didn’t even know Pierce and still stood up to him (stupidly, but bravely) and managed to scare Pierce. How much more perfect could this guy get?

He gave the coffee to Steve along with change amounting to the price of the coffee. “Here, it’s on the house. You were awesome back there.”

Steve smiled sheepishly as his face turned scarlet. “Thanks, but it... he... He was bullying you guys.”

“It’s a regular occurrence ‘round here.” Bucky shrugged, attempting to appear nonchalant. “No big deal.”

“I don’t like bullies. I don’t care where they’re from.” Steve stuck his chin out defiantly. “The fact that it’s a repeated occurrence makes it worse, Bucky. Why don’t you do something about it?”

A sting of guilt wormed it’s way through Bucky, interwoven with the familiar tangle of fear. “Steve, I...” he trailed off, and took a deep breath. 

“Honestly, I’m terrified.”

Gamora and the returned Nat and Maria were not so casually eavesdropping, and he could see them agreeing in the corner of his eye. 

“These three are the most badass women I know,” Bucky said, spreading his hand to acknowledge them, “and he makes us all feel powerless. I don’t know what to do.”

 

Why was he pouring his heart out to a stranger? What if he knew Pierce, or told someone what happened? Did he just endanger himself and his friends? No, no.  
But what if Pierce went after Steve? What if he went after him and Bucky couldn’t stop it? He straightened himself up and cleared his throat. “Woah, I got deep there. Enjoy your drink, Stephanie.” Bucky gave a quick salute, and whipped around to run to the back room.  
In his jumbled mind, he distantly heard Steve calling out for him, but he ignored him. 

Tears started to flow and he started to feel his chest constrict. Memories rushed in, amplified by worries and phantom sensations. He sat down and began to count quietly. He registered his friends rushing in, but attempted to focus on his breathing. Anxiety attack. Great. Fantabulous. Amazing. Showstopping. Fuckass McGee comes trampling around and now Bucky was sitting in a chair hyperventilating and sobbing. 

Through the fog of his mind he heard a calm, soothing voice. 

“Bucky. We are here. We love you.” Natasha. 

“You are protected. You are loved.” Gamora. 

“He won’t hurt you anymore. I’m done with his games and I love you.” Maria. 

And then another voice. 

“It’s been a hectic few days, huh? Life sucks, I’ve been there. But- we’ve got your six. Right here and now, I’ll say it. I’m with you til the end of the line.” Steve. 

Bucky felt his breathing start to slow, the whirlwind in his head quieting to a whisper. He kept his eyes closed, and took deep breaths. 

He opened his eyes, and saw four concerned people in the room.  
His friend, Gamora.  
His boss and friend, Maria.  
His best friend and roommate, Natasha.  
And a new friend, a new possibility. Steve. 

He looked around, and muttered a gruff, “thanks.”

He didn’t let it show, but he was singing their praises. He was not alone. He was strong. 

Steve shot him a look of happiness, and crumpled a piece of paper up, leaving it on the table next to Bucky. 

“Do you need some space?” asked Gamora tentatively. 

“Guys, I’m fine. You don’t need to dance around me like I’m walking on glass,” he protested. “I’ll be back to work in a sec.” 

“Oh we know. But the strongest of men ostill have a team.” Maria turned around and walked away. 

“Dude, my best friend is a vet himself- he’s literally a VA counselor- and life ain’t a ball for him either. Does that make him weak? Hell no. I have anxiety attacks too, Bucky. It sucks, but don’t feel like you can’t reach out.” As he was talking, the girls left to continue their work. As soon as they left, Steve leaned in closer.  
“Was I making you feel bad?” Whispered Steve. “I didn’t mean to! I barged into your business and it’s my fault and I’m sorry, I should just... go...” He took the wad of paper and moved to leave, but Bucky stopped him. 

“No, Steve, thanks. Seriously. I’m the war veteran and yet, I still need saving myself.” 

“Do you think we’ve crossed a line from acquaintances to maybe... friends?” asked Steve, seeming to immediately regret it?

“One anxiety attack and suddenly we’re buddy-buddy?”

“Shit... I’m sorry, I’ll just go now, thank y-“

“I’m kidding, of course we’ve crossed that line!” Bucky laughed, and the tension eased out from his shoulders. 

Steve slouched in relief, and then handed the crumpled wad of paper to Bucky. 

“Hey, we should hang out then,” he said, “and tell your friends thank you for letting me back here!”

“I will! Bye, Cute Customer Steve!” Shit. Of course that was the name his brain gives him. 

“Bye, Beautiful Barista Bucky!” Steve responded after a short pause. Did he mean that, or... Bucky was still in an addled state. Yeah. That’s it. 

He unfolded the paper ball Steve gave him after he was alone in the room. 

Written on it was this:

So we can stay in contact.  
Steve Rogers  
555-704-1918

Bucky smiled the tiniest bit when he read the paper. Steve truly was an angel. Maybe the universe was on his side after all. 

Thanks, Universe.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story reached 10k words yeehaw
> 
> Also I love Sam Wilson

Steve lay in bed, the day’s events still playing in his head. Why of all moments did he choose THAT moment to give Bucky his number? The poor man had just had an anxiety attack, for Pete’s sake. And the way you comfort him... is to give him your number. Smooth. 

“What’chu moping about, Cap?” Sam leaned against the doorway. “I take it all is not well in the land of Steve.”

Steve sat up and pushed his pillow behind his back. “What gave that away?” He gave Sam a pointed look. 

“Did you get another negative comment on Captain America?” The first time Steve got a negative comment on his webcomic, he almost punched his computer. 

“That was literally years ago, can you let that go?” Steve ran a hand over his face. “And no. I fucked up, Sam. I really did.”

Sam’s face morphed into a worried frown, and he sat down on the edge of Steve’s bed. “What happened? I haven’t seen you this upset since the whole Rumlow incident.”

Steve took a deep breath. “Bucky had an anxiety attack today. This asshole health inspector was terrorizing the poor employees, and I intervened and was able to get him out of there,”

“That’s great, Steve! I don’t see the problem,” 

“No, but as he was giving me my drink, he started telling me about the health inspector, and then he ran to the back room. I felt horrible.”

“Steve...”

“Hold on, I’m not done. He ran back and he was hyperventilating and I panicked and gave him my number.”

“Had he calmed down by this point?”

“Well, yeah, and we had been talking, I guess, but I’m so stupid. Why am I like this, Sam?”

“Steve.” Sam took his friend’s shoulders. “Take a moment. Take a deep breath. Have you noticed that you yourself are currently also having an anxiety attack?”

“What?” Steve stopped rambling and noticed that his chest was heaving. He closed his eyes in exasperation and took a few deep breaths. He opened his eyes again and attempted to calm himself down. 

“A few more moments and you would’ve had an asthma attack, Steve.” Sam looked his friend in the eyes, concern showing on his face. “Steve. Cap. Dude.”

Steve took a few more breaths, and then, before thinking better of it, hugged Sam. “I’m sorry.”

Sam was taken aback, and awkwardly patted his back. “For what?”

“All this. Constantly detailing every bit of my stupid crush to you and Peggy.” Steve drew back and gestured vaguely with his hands. 

“Steve, you don’t have to be sorry. It’s fun to watch you try and figure out how to navigate this lovefest. And even the heavy stuff- Steve, I’m a counselor. I’m equipped for heavy emotions. You don’t have to worry about that. As for Peggy, she’s having the time of her life playing matchmaker.”

Steve chose to ignore the last part, and smiled up at Sam. “Thanks, man.”

“Hey, of course!” Sam patted Steve on the back and stood up. “Now if you excuse me, I’ve got a date with Spotify.”

Sam left the room, and after a moment, Marvin Gaye’s Troubleman floated in from the other room. 

Steve was letting himself sway to the music when his phone buzzed.   
There was a message from an unknown number. 

555-310-1917: hey Steve it’s Bucky

Steve: Hey! How are you?

Bucky: pretty shit but better than I was

Steve: Good!!  
Steve: not that you’re feeling shit but it’s good that you’re feeling better!!!

Bucky: I assumed

Steve: So how was the rest of your day?

Bucky: Better- the only other thing that really happened is that my friend Maria (drive thru lady) ranted about this band she likes that are releasing a new song every month or smnth- what didnt we or something  
Bucky: idk why that stands out to me  
Bucky: today was a weird day

Steve: you mean why don’t we?  
Steve: I think they did 8 letters

Bucky: probably  
Bucky: I’m rambling I should shut up

Steve: nah you’re good! I’m so glad you’re doing better 

Steve smiled at his phone and turned out the light. 

Steve: don’t be worried about stuff like that  
Steve: I’m shit at comforting but my friend Sam taught me some stuff (he’s the therapist friend I told you about)

Bucky: don’t feel like you need to comfort me!! I’m good

Steve: cool   
Steve: have you seen the new x men

And just like that, they were off, talking about trivial things like they had been doing it all their life. They weren’t exactly dancing around Bucky’s anxiety- they were instead focusing on the better things. And throughout the hours they stayed up, Steve saw their nascent friendship truly take shape. 

Bucky: okay I know you didn’t just say that your birthday is actually the Fourth of July

Steve: It is!! Do you want me to pull out my birth certificate??

Bucky: first of all... why do you just have that handy? Second of all, nah. I kind of don’t doubt that you’re America’s golden boy

Steve: sure you keep believing that

It was nearly two in the morning before Steve put down his phone after sending one final text to Bucky. 

Bucky had thanked him before going to sleep, and Steve smiled. He was grateful to have this opportunity to be friends with someone like Bucky. And with that, he drifted off to sleep.


End file.
